


To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

by sweetiejelly



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 12:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiejelly/pseuds/sweetiejelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From dreams to reality: 5 times Kurt and Blaine slept together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Written back in June 2011 for Jenny; originally posted [at my LJ](http://sweetiejelly.livejournal.com/156342.html"").

That first time, Blaine was drunk and Kurt was smitten and neither of them was naked. They slept through the night with just their sleeves touching, and Kurt dreamt and dreamt.

When morning came and Blaine came to, there was confusion with Burt, with Kurt, and awkward talks about boundaries and gay sleepovers, about sex ed and the role of a father.

Still, Kurt was not sorry that he had lugged Blaine up the stairs (with Finn’s help), that they had deposited him in Kurt’s bed. Kurt was not sorry at _all_ to have spent the night next to his crush, listening to the rush of blood in his veins, looking at moonlight on his cheeks. It was a dream.

The second time they slept together was over the phone. They had stayed up watching the live-stream, witnessing history as the New York State Senate passed its same-sex marriage bill. They stayed up talking and dreaming, of New York, of tomorrows, of hope.

“A couple of years ago, before Dalton,” Blaine said sincerely, with a quiet lift of his eyebrows, “I couldn’t have _imagined_ being here with you, talking about getting our own first apartment in New York when we go for college and just … be _fabulous_ together.”

Kurt laughed softly, a happy, half lip-biting sort of laugh. “Yeah, we are pretty fabulous, aren’t we?”

Blaine cradled his phone closer and lowered his voice, “Mostly it’s just you. You’re amazing, Kurt. My boyfriend’s _amazing_.”

“Hmm, mine too.” Kurt smiled fondly, sleepily, and yawned. “I don’t want to hang up.” – “Don’t.” – “I can’t wait to really fall asleep with you. I already know what a great pillow you are.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Blaine curled tighter around his blanket, which he was _not_ hugging all night, pretending it was Kurt. “You just want to use me.”

“You can use me back.” Kurt blushed as he said it, imagining Blaine really just wearing him out. In bed.

Blaine breathed harshly into the phone. “Kurt,” he said, throwing a leg over his blanket and making a valiant effort not to rut against it (too much).

“Blaine,” Kurt breathed back, not doing much better at all.

Eventually exhaustion overtook them and they fell asleep, breathing into each other’s ears.

In the morning, Blaine’s phone was dead but he felt cheerful, much too happy to care.

The third time – the third time should have been the charm. But the third time was after the fourth of July party at the park, when they fell asleep in the back seat of the car (with Finn and Rachel too, squished to Kurt’s other side).

When Carole gently shook his shoulder, Kurt opened his eyes, still starry with fireworks and coleslaw, with the overture of 1812. “Hey guys, we’re here. Blaine’s house.”

Blaine woke at his name, slowly, sleep and wonder still rubbed together. It must have been what prompted him to tilt his head up for just a second, kissing Kurt in semi-public for the first time. “Good night.”

Kurt was too stunned to reply and then too awake, all the way to Rachel’s house. He didn’t look over when Finn kissed her good night. It wasn’t the same. Yet, a little voice told him _maybe someday. In New York. With Blaine_.

The fourth time was near perfect – senior prom, nothing near the disaster of their junior prom. Burt had a _moment_ before they left, when he hugged Kurt like he’d always hugged Kurt, at eight seconds old, at eight years old, at eighteen. “I’m so happy for you, Kurt. Just remember what I told you,” he looked not so subtly over at Blaine.

“Dad! We’re not – we’re just watching the sunrise with a _huge_ group of friends. And Finn. Don’t worry! It’s not – it’s just – but okay! I _got it_. I love you, too. I’ll call.” He was sure he was as red as his carnation by then, by the time he made it over to Blaine to grab his hand.

They hurried out the door. But they didn’t hurry out their hotel room. Not at all. Kurt undid Blaine’s tie and Blaine undid Kurt’s bow tie. And they kissed and they kissed and they kissed, from the wood of the door to the faux marble of the sink to the soft feathers of the comforter. They kissed with their fingers tracing over the expanse of skin, they kissed with their eyes and they kept busy with their lips.

They slept with the steady thrust of hips. “Oh _god_ , Blaine!”

Blaine couldn’t speak at all for a moment, flushed and mouth open in an O. They clutched onto each other, lips over necks, palms over palms, thighs over shoulders, groans over sighs over really, _really_ embarrassing sounds that Kurt would deny he’d ever made, if asked.

But Blaine didn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, the sounds drove him on, pushed him over. He sucked over Kurt’s neck to see it flush with color. “You sound so hot, Kurt. You _are_ so hot. God, you’re killing me with your –”

Kurt kissed him quiet. Kurt kissed him as sexy as he knew how. Kurt kissed him until they both cried out, undone.

They slept, after a shower, arms fitted over arms, legs over legs like a perfect set.

If they missed the sunrise viewing on the rooftop, well, Kurt wasn’t sorry at all. They have so many sunrises ahead of them. _So_ many.

The fifth time – well, the fifth time, they were actually in New York.

“Hi roommate,” Blaine kissed him on the center of his palms and Kurt tried not to swoon.

“Hi,” he tugged Blaine closer so they could fit in a half kneeling hug. “Aren’t you glad I found this two-bedroom apartment for us? With semi-thick walls so Rachel won’t hear us…”

“So glad,” Blaine kissed him, hot and so sweetly, at the base of his neck. When he said it again, staring at him with eyes full of pride and hope, Kurt knew they weren’t just talking about living arrangements anymore. “ _So_ glad we’re here.”

In the morning, Rachel made them blueberry pancakes but hogged the bathroom. But that was okay, mostly because Kurt was going to look for a two bed/two bath _ASAP_ , but also because Blaine was there distracting him, pulling him down to his lap, feeding him pancakes and whispering dirty things they could do before Rachel was done with her morning routine.

And well, Kurt couldn’t much argue with that. Besides, this was New York. They were finally here. It was no longer just a dream or some far fetched plan. It was as real as the promises Blaine had been whispering in his ears since Lima. And real, Kurt discovered, was better than any dream he’d ever had. Especially with Blaine and blueberry pancakes. But mostly Blaine.


End file.
